


Submit to me

by Anonymous



Category: Devil May Cry
Genre: 12k of porn: The fic, Accidental Voyeurism, Belligerent Sexual Tension, Biting, Blood Drinking, Blood Sharing, Bulges, Come Eating, Come Marking, Cunnilingus, Dom/sub Undertones, Double Dick, Double Vaginal Penetration, Edgeplay, Face-Sitting, Femdom of a sort, Fight Sex, Fights, Implied femdom, Incest, Kissing, M/M, Mating Bites, Mating Rituals, Nero's DT has a vagina, Oral Sex, Other, Size Difference, Spardacest, SpardacestWeek, Teratophilia, Threesome - M/M/M, Vaginal Fingering, [WAFF in Demon], a tail is put to good use, come bulge, demonic cuddling, demonic mating, erotic asphyxiation, establishing dominance, first time (of a sort), mentions of other pairings, messy sex, nuzzling, tail licking, taking the DMC4 opening scene to the conclusion we deserved, that one was very important, there's a lot of filth in here
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-05
Updated: 2019-05-05
Packaged: 2020-02-10 18:44:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,840
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18666184
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Just because he's won their fight doesn't mean Vergil has submitted. Evenhesays he can still fight. Once, Nero would be proud of his father's newfound humanity and tenaciousness, but he's beyond patience. He promised that he would make his father submit, that he would keep his new family together, and by Sparda himself he was going to do it.Even if it means domming the hell out of his father and sucking that brand of stubborness through his dicks. Not that their demonic sides disagree.(Or his uncle's)





	Submit to me

Nero grabs his father and his duplicate afterimage by the head and slams them together before throwing Vergil away. He’s breathing hard and smiles victorious when father changes back to human form.

He did it. He really did it. He—

"Oh dear brother!” Dante gloats, as if this was _his_ victory. The opportunistic asshole. “You cut off your own son's arm for more power, and you still lost!"

That of course, only riles up his father.

"Shut up old man!" he shouts exasperated –they don’t have _time_ for more of this shit, really- at the same time Vergil insist he can still fight. Which is a stupid lie because Nero's sure he gave his father the well-deserved beating of love he deserves. But if there's something Nero knows, is that he can be stubbornly petty over simple things.

That’s definitely a hereditary trait.

“Fine!” Nero shouts impatiently, power surging through his veins, changing him back to a form made almost of pure instinct, desire and power. “Better get those scales back. _Father_. Or you’re not gonna last!” 

That seemed to be the older devil’s plan all along. Nero is momentarily blinded by the light from his father transforming again, and sees him flying away, circling around the arena between the pillars. He’s not monologue now, which means he’s getting serious. About time he acknowledges his son.  

The Key to best him now is to be patient and get ready for the split second opening. He did it once, if he concentrates, he can do it again. Except this time Father’s Aim is higher. He’s not looking for a head on collision. Keyed as he is on his direction though, Nero Just follows.

He snatches his father while airborne and suplexes him to the ground with a victorious crow. But strangely, this time he remains in devil form, and there’s a light blue glow right above him. He instinctively rolls away. Part of him berating that of course he got cocky, of course his father was going to know how to parry the second time he suplexes him.  

And—

Vergil is still on the ground.

Nero narrows his eyes. Yeah, the blue thing is still there, but he doesn’t sense any hostile power buildup or something similar. He approaches, blue rose at the ready just in case. What he discovers is that the blue glow isn’t originating from his chest but lower. Which curious, but whatever. He raises blue Rose when the glow starts to fade revealing two elongated forms. Swords maybe? Yamato can make spectral blades. Was his father taking his time to create two? Setting a trap, maybe?

But Yamato isn’t nearby, and the two blades are awfully short and—

Blue rose falls on the ground.

No. Just No. Those are—

Dicks.

Those _things_ are shaped like dicks. Two of them (what the fuck?) attached to his father’s devil form (WHAT THE FUCK?!)

To be fair, if Dante’s distressed hollering and Vergil’s frozen shock are anything to go by, this is not a planned turn of events.

O _kay_

There’s no handbook on what to do when your vaguely mass murderous father that took your arm pops a _double dick_ boner during your fight. But if anything this just proves he’s related to the Spardas. There’s no way his life could be plagued with such strange shit if he wasn’t.

Nero nods, already resigned with his fate and approaches his father who’s keeping really still. Did he think he could do like and ostrich? No way. If he had to see _that,_ he was not going to take it quietly. Might as well teach his father that sometimes you had to just roll with the punches.

The first thing he notices is that, alright the cock sheath protector or whatever was not overcompensating for something at all. The second that his father’s tail is swishing dangerously by, ready to attack. The third that he will step between his father’s legs anyway, and show the tail what for.

But it isn’t the tail that attacks. That was just a decoy. It's practically a blur, but he parries the wing slap with Red Queen, his spectral wings lashing out pushing Vergil back down with a strength that surprises even him. He gives his father the biggest shit eating grin, but doesn't touch the dicks. Arousal aside, he knows some boundaries and unlike hobo pizza guy over there, Nero knows how to respect them.

From what he knows, this could be a landmine.

"So you like this huh?" He teases, though he's not one to talk really. Sometimes he too pops a boner when a fight gets really physical and intense. Must be their demon blood. "Want me to touch you here? We can go back to our scheduled me kicking your deadbeat ass, but this seems to be another option," he continues nonchalantly and pins his father with a glance, entirely serious. "Your call."

A second later he catches exactly what he just said. Before he has time to correct himself, Vergil screeches scathingly, widening his legs a little. As if he thinks Nero won’t even beat him on this. As if it is _him_ who is doing Nero a favor, because _he’s_ the one burning with need.

And he _is_ burning, alright. With anger. Fuck relationship taboos. He’s gonna do it. Vergil will regret this challenge. He plants Red Queen behind him, with just enough space for maneuver, but near enough to snatch it quickly and defend himself if things go south.

He must admit, father is not bad looking. Large form and double flapped wings ready to engulf anyone. Strong armored jaw; big shoulders and big clawed hands that could lift him like an afterthought; demonic power pouring effervescently around him inviting for a sip; trimmed waist; strong legs and Nero knows he has a great ass. He even has a tail, to pull him closer if he wants. Not bad.

He didn’t know he had a preference for the scaly and demoniacal, but maybe he hadn’t awakened his own devil trigger yet and was just underappreciating. Time to correct that, he guesses. Except from what he's seen, Vergil doesn't seem to have a hole where to stick his dick. Well, Nero can't say his dicks sucking skills are the best without any previous experience -but he might as well try.

At least he knows how to stop them from coming, edge them along to render a man to a mess begging for release. Kyrie taught him well.

Up close the dicks are something else. Big as his forearm, and just as thick. The head is spade shaped, in order to slip into any crevice, Nero guesses. (Demon sex must be _wild_!) They curve slightly, showing off a series of ridged plates on its underside staring right before the head and widening all the way down to some bulbous base before tapering off inside the slit.

The first thing that hits him is the scent. It doesn’t smell like anything he can immediately pinpoint, but in this close proximity his mouth waters. Those dicks stand proud, precum beading on each slit –and lollipop might be too cliché but somehow Nero knows the taste is going to be a treat.  

He might not be able to suck them though. They are big, and his pointy teeth might be a problem. They are not massive fangs like Vergil’s, but who knows if his father likes that kind of pain –or if his instincts won’t turn from delicious lollipop to delicious sausage nom nom.

He kisses the underside of one dick, a soft press of closed lips and leaves a trail of more down to the base. Hot to the touch but smooth and when he turns, he realizes he doesn’t need to lean forward to lick the other. He’s already doing a little sweep from base to cockhead with the tip of his tongue. His freaking long tongue.

Alright, good to know he has some capabilities in this form to give a good time. He tests it out by licking, tongue flat and slow, the slit of Vergil’s cock sheath from bottom to top, right between the twitching cocks. It earns him a jolt. Nero smirks, entirely pleased, takes one of the cocks in one hand for a lazy pump while he gives the other a flat lick from the side to the tip.

The scent grows stronger. His face gets wet with leaking precome, and Nero doesn’t mind one bit. Two dicks meant things were going to get messy, and that’s just the way he likes to go. He gives another lick bottom to top, with a slight ghost of teeth and turns to the other cock, going straight to sucking the bulbous thing at the bottom. 

Vergil jerks violently enough to get the dick away from his mouth. Nero barely registers the hands going for his head, but his instincts are quicker, and his spectral hands slams those back to the ground. He looks up at his unrepentant father with a loud hiss that is one hundred percent inhuman and a warning. “Ah-Ah!” he rasps with authority, pushing a strand of long hair out of the way. “You do that, and no more tongue.”

The threat seems to work, and Vergil relaxes his hands. Nero keeps his wings in place just in case, and returns to his experimentation with the double dick. He’s not going to lie, earning that reaction from his father is big boost to his confidence regarding his lack of oral experience, and as he mouths the sensitive base on one of the cocks he slithers out his tongue ready to learn more of what he can do with it.

His tongue is long enough to wrap around the bulbous base, and he experiments on how to keep a firm grip while sucking it that way. It comes easier than expected, like he always knew how to do it. He likes the feeling though, how he can feel his father’s pulsating power through it. He pumps the dicks, alternatingly licking each and trying different things. Wrap his tongue among the base, wrap it around the arrowhead tip and pressing like he’s sucking –that one earns him a shrilly chirp.

Nero stills at the sound, long hair falling down on one of the cocks, form still like a predator. But something claws inside, yearning for more, screaming and demanding that he makes Vergil do more of those sounds, that he trembles more, that they take his release away more times.  

It's feral, unrestrained, and Nero just stops caring about the reigns and lets himself just go to town. Messes his face, his lips, his hair. Even uses it to tease those cocks. Vergil shudders when the silky strands move against the exposed underside. He will make his father submit, acknowledge his existence, and accept he's loved and won’t be harmed. Everything else he can handle in the aftermath.

The dicks are steadily wet now. Leaking precome profusely and Nero loves the taste. It’s lollipop alright, tangy, gooey and addicting. It even has a bitter aftertaste that just enhances the flavor. Shit he should have eaten dick before, he was missing big time. His tongue slides the slightest bit inside one tip to coax more while he pumps the other. Ventures to kiss the tip even, all lips, no teeth.

It’s during a slow tug, from base to tip that Nero notice the bulbous thing at the base of Vergil’s dicks grows wider, and Nero has no compunctions on gripping them hard forcing them to shrink. He’s not going to let him come that easily. Vergil gives a deafening screech, one wing trying to bat him off.

Nero dodges the wing, using his own to push the appendage back in place and ducks the whip of his father’s tail. He dexterously entangles it with one of his legs when the tail recedes for another hit and bites its pointy head to keep it firmly in place.

The plaques in the tail are hard but surprisingly blunt. He’d expect the edges to be cutting as the rest of his father’s armored body. The tail struggles against his leg trying to break free and Nero bites harder. The cocks in his hands twitch in response and _that’s_ a fun discovery.

“Stay put,” he manages to vocalize through his biting and tightens the grip on Vergil’s cocks for emphasis. “We’re not done yet.”

His father doesn’t seem to budge and so Nero bites harder on the tail until he relents. When the bulbous base-thing on the dicks decreases, he begins to jerk them off again, spitting the tail from his hold. “Be good. Father”

Father slides his tail all around his leg, the blunt head hitting purposely between his legs in a move so fast Nero can’t catch it. Not that he could anyway, he’s frozen by the sudden pleasure elicited by that. 

He hadn’t realized his dick sheath (or is it dick cover? He’s getting Demon anatomy 101 in practical, it seems) was opened already. But the tail’s whip didn’t hurt –didn’t seem to hit anything outside, really. He doesn’t feel anything hanging. It's just wet heat and nothing else. He clenches his thighs, trying to find the dick that's supposed to be the and nothing. Just wet heat and a yawning that seems to go straight to his core.

The realization pulls him away from teasing demon dicks. He might have the biggest deer in the headlights look on his face but right now all his attention is on his hand, palming around his slit trying to find anything and shudders when the pad of his clawed fingers brush against wet folds. They are barely open and liquid seeps into his hand, slowly, hot and thick. 

Shit. He doesn’t have a dick. He has a...

Before him father incorporates a little and maybe Nero is reading him wrong, but his pops seems to be amused by the situation. Nero snarls in challenge, bringing his hand back to look at his discovery. He's wet alright, and yeah, the clear almost jelly-like liquid is definitely not jizz.

Mental breakdown can come later, right now all he thinks is that this is fucking convenient.

He will suck Vergil's petty will to fight his twin to the death with his vagina if that's what it takes. He never thought he would ever be in this position, but if anything, Kyrie taught him well.

Two in one go might be too much for a first time, but what is Nero if not a reckless overachiever? He's going to make his father beg and submit to even get a chance and get his dick wet.

He’s a fucking genius.

He wipes his hand clean on one of his cocks, delighted in how the twitch, leaking for more attention. He wonders how he smells for Vergil. Does he smell mouthwatering as well? He hopes so.

He plants an open mouthed kiss on one cockhead and Vergil jolts away, a disappointed, almost displeased screech rumbling through his body. Nero clicks his tongue, part teasing and annoyed. “What?” he sing-songs “You want something else? Hm? I told you. I was going to make you submit. If you want it, you gotta ask nicely, father.”

Asking nicely according to Vergil, is carefully sliding his tail between Nero’s legs. An insistent but shy move. Like a child tugging his mother’s skirt asking for something. Unfortunately for his father, Nero had no mom and so pushes his opening against the tail, searching for more friction.  

“Playing the gentleman now?” he teases, almost challenging and his father answers by rubbing harder, with a long slow swipe of his tail, blunt scales facing up pressing against his slit. He does a twist with his tail, moving the scales like a wave and one of them tugs and catches something inside his slit and hits the tender spot where the upper fold meet.

Nero gasps, involuntarily clenching around them. He was going to apologize to Nico and Kyrie for being shy about sweet surrender. He got it now. He fucking got it. At least he knows his mother –whomever she was- was a very happy woman for at least one night.

He goes back to licking dick and enjoy his father’s exploratory scales. They are so wet that the sharp edges feel blunt. Just like the protective scales on his father’s dicks. Vergil twitches whenever his tongue teases the sensitive skin where scales and kin meet, and bats his wings when Nero sucks lightly on the bulbous protuberance at the base of each cock. He's a handful. Luckily for everyone, Nero has two pairs of hands to make things work.

The pointy end delves a little bit inside, and hits against some _thing_. Nero shivers at the sensation, the spectral feathers ruffled. Whatever it hit is sensitive, and heavy, almost juggling. A membrane, maybe? He’s half the mind to pull the tail out when it flicks and cleanly cuts the barrier in a vertical line, right in the middle, and the contents burst down thick and wetter than anything he’s felt before.

Nero screams, nerves on fire as he falls down head first on his father’s cocks. His thighs are drenched, there’s a pool forming at his feet. He’s burning, one cell at a time. It’s searing his insides like the time he fixed Yamato, but now there’s no desire for power. It’s just jumbled ferocious animalistic lust.

He groans –or screams who knows. His face is wet, maybe there are tears. Nero curses. He’s never felt like this before. This primal urge to fuck, to —to _breed_ \- or he’ll die. It’s beyond sexual frustration. He thought he knew that with Kyrie but—

Shit if that’s what his father is feeling, Nero is a bit sorry.

Once he has enough mind to push away and look down he can see the obscenely thick rivers of clear lubricant sluicing down his legs. He can’t believe he’s producing this much. Where does it come from?

He half-heartedly bats the now slippery tail away and looks back at his father. He expects some smug screech, or even a challenging look. Instead he finds Father plopped down again, making some chirping keenly noises –almost needy, and begging.

The sound isn’t articulate, but whatever their meaning it goes straight to his head, to his groin. He finds himself answering with weird noises of his own as he climbs a little to kneel on his father’s hips. He feels lightheaded, all thoughts running so fast they almost seem like a red mist, urging his lizard brain to take over and clear the objective.

His spectral hands take hold of Vergil’s hips. He’s immobilized like this, unable to thrust up, no matter what. Nero approves of it. With sudden confidence he shakes his hips a little letting the tip of Vergil’s dicks tease his lips open. He stays just enough to coat them with a touch of his lubricant and raises up again.   

Beneath him Vergil makes a garbling sound, his wings going to his shoulders, trying to push him down –push him back to his cocks but Nero won’t budge. Father hasn’t given up yet, and if Nero budges, he’ll lose his leverage. Vergil has to beg for it, submit himself to him. Only then, Nero will take him inside.

He's operating in instinct at this point, teasing his father again and again. Letting him have a taste of what he can have and taking it away no matter how hard he pushes –no matter if the wing hooks are starting to scratch him deeper. Whatever feels natural, he does it. Father needs to submit, but he needs to understand it's not out of malice. Nero needs to erase Vergil's will to kill his brother, and he will replace it with something greater. He's done losing family and fucking up when he tries to reach. 

If what V told him is true, then Nero wants to fulfill that, show Vergil that vulnerability is precious.

He wants to be loved. He wants to be protected. And somewhere in the back of Nero's mind there's a chorus that screams, _I'll love you, I'll protect you, I'll be with you, submit to me, submit to me, submit to me!_

He looks directly at his father, keeps their eye contact. Heartbeat pounding in his ears, pounding strong enough to rip his ribcage. There’s a tense silence until Vergil nods, and slowly the wings pushing on his shoulders lower and circle his back, almost petting his hair.

_Ah._ The chorus inside his head growls satisfied, almost purring. _Good. Good father, good mate._  

He smiles at his father, pushing himself into position so that the dicks can go inside. Then instead of easing them in, he widens his opening with his hands and lets himself fall down _hard_. 

Vergil’s screech leaves him momentarily deaf, wings scrambling for purchase of something and finally hooking on the guard scales of his forelegs. Not that Nero cares at the moment, still reeling by the sudden intrusion and hot searing _burn_ splitting him in half. It takes another moment to realize he’s screaming too, dry mouthed and throat burning –not as much as his lower body, but enough to be noticeable.

Vergil’s double dicks are a blunt weapon. Big and armored in some parts. Nero knows he took too much, his lubricant barely making it work but when they are finally settled he breathes out. The air is moist, and hot, and his skin feels too tight, like he's about to burst, like the dicks inside will tear him in half.

He smells blood too, and it takes a moment to realize it's his. He can hazard a guess on where exactly it's coming from, and it hurts, yeah, but nowhere near enough to turn him off. In fact, it's the total opposite. His silly demon lizard brain likes the taste of mild pain and blood, and Nero fully agrees.

He presses his hands on Vergil’s chest, claws carefully touching the glowing V and pushes himself up with another ragged groan when the burn starts to fade. Be barely sees the older demon through the fringe of his hair but it’s darker now.

He sits up alarmed, the dicks are barely half outside him when he does and rub his insides deliciously. He passes one hand through his hair, clearing his vision and looks above to find wings, as if Vergil is shielding him – _them-_ from prying eyes.

He smiles at Vergil, touched by the sentiment. “You _are_ a gentleman.”

The wings above preen in answer and just for that, he lets himself fall on the cocks again. It’s slippery and still burns in something that isn’t exactly pain but edges between pleasure and too much. But each drag makes it better, presses something against him that leaves him wanting for more, and more.

It is brutal, taking everything inside and reshaping him, one drag and fall at a time. He can see his middle bulge every time he goes down. His flesh and skin tents, and on the next time he goes down, he pushes a hand against it, wondering if he could feel the indentation of each scale.

Vergil makes a chirruping sound and Nero can’t help but chuckle.

"Yeah you got me," he manages, because what else is there to say? He'll be fucking ruined for everyone else at this point. No fucking wonder Nico likes her bad dragon dildos.

He shakes his hips a little on the way up. Stuffed as he is, there’s no way he can gyrate his hips for a nice twist, but Vergil’s hands twitch in need. As if he’s restraining himself. How adorable.  

“Give me your tail,” he asks, “I need more purchase”

Vergil chirps again, and in a show of dexterity, circles his tail around his middle, lifting him up. Not exactly what Nero had in mind, but the added pull and push works better that way.

He kisses the pointy tip in gratitude, licking away his lubricant. It’s a bit spicy, but the thick gooey texture soothes the burn. It’s a good taste, he decides, and cleans the tail thoroughly. He divides his attention between going ups and down his father’s cocks and nibbling on one of the tail spikes.

He can feel Vergil’s whole body shudder beneath, can feel the twin cock twitching, engorging, standing proud deep inside him reaching a particular spot that leaves him breathless. Nero squeezes them in retribution with a squelching sound.

He's so open, the pressure of those dicks still bordering between unbearable and delicious, and yet each time he squeezes his walls seem to bring them closer. He's accommodating them to his body. It's almost as if he was made to take this much and squeeze him dry or something. And Vergil’s dicks were made to be inside him too, reaching deeper with every thrust, stimulating whatever sensitive sports he has inside with extreme vengeance and reaching deeper and deeper.

His father makes an estranged noise -somewhere between a screech and growl- and Nero stops. He looks at his father, licking the place where he nibbled his tail. There isn't much an armored face can emote, but his demonic energy fluctuates the moment their eyes meet. A somersault akin to a groan in pleasure.

Oh.

He smirks. “You see something you like?” he asks, settling more on the dicks spearing him wide, and slowly, keeping eye contact, caresses the bulge protruding from his stomach from the top to the base where they join. _This is what you've done to me, father_.

The effect is immediate. Vergil’s hands grip his thighs, spreading him further apart, and his wings and tail force him down. The thrusts become frantic, and he’s leaking all over their hips, and Vergil’s stomach. His own spectral wings grip Vergil’s back, urging him on.

He must have said something, because Vergil changes the angle a little and something inside him breaks. He’s hitting something new and tender and when Nero pushes a hand against his stomach to put pressure on the dicks they rub just right and Nero sees stars.

He screams when he comes, body arching, wings flapping and it’s only his father’s grip that ground him when everything is shaky and hazy and twitching. He barely sees a thing, but he can still feel father’s cocks, how he thrusts them in and out one, two, three times always reaching that spot. Nero drools, body still shaking and hypersensitive when father pushes him down again, roughly and with enough force that the bulbous thing at the base of each cocks finds their way inside and get stuck.

Above him Vergil screeches loudly, wings extended and Nero feels the first rush of scalding come marking him from the inside out. Nero gasps wetly gripping his father’s shoulder. He doesn’t know how much time has passed, doesn’t know if time has passed at all, but he feels bloated, his stomach gaining a round curvature, and it’s too much.

He tries to tell that to his father, but the older devil just purrs. One hand cradling his head, long claws delicately running through his hair. It tries to be soothing but it isn’t enough. His dicks are still inside, hard, pumping so much jizz that he going to burst at any moment. He’ll never be free from his father’s cum. It’ll be deep inside him forever, no matter what he does.

It’s hot. It’s too much. It’s driving him crazy.

Nero doesn’t want it to ever stop.  

"You feel good. You feel so, so good" he babbles, a little bit too high in pleasure. He licks the shining V on his father's chest, uncaring about the static burning his tongue. The sting only makes him tighter, wetter, and Vergil seems to approve of it if the rumbling screech is anything to go by. He's amazing like this, wondrous even and Nero smiles pulling his father closer, foreheads touching.

One of his spectral hands takes his father’s hand and presses it firmly against his stomach, where come is starting to stretch him even more.  "You're here with me. Together," he whispers and ducks his head to nuzzle under his chin, where father’s power beats furiously bright against the protective plates. It feels good, and he’s so utterly contented that his stupid lizard brain high on pleasure and pheromones adds, "welcome home. Father." 

Vergil trembles, and something wet falls on his hair. He frowns, ready to act but one of Vergil’s massive hands stops it, urges him to keep his head tucked beneath his chin. He thinks he hears Dante swear, but it doesn’t matter. What matters is Vergil and the slight trembling of his hands

He grinds down once more. The movement is graceless, he’s more bloated than what he imagined, but it achieves his goal. Father jerks, tenses a little and drapes himself, arms, hands, wings and tail, all over Nero. Cocooning him. It’s almost as if he wants to make sure he is real and this is happening. 

Nero can empathize with that.

The bite is unexpected. A barely heard growl followed by a sharp sting and the sound of his scales breaking under pressure. He can feel his blood leaking out, and somewhere in his mind's eye he can almost see how the blue liquid coats his father's fangs, his tongue.

It hurts and yet it just turns him on, his body tightening around his father's dicks, trying to suck him dry even if he's already bloated, his belly big and round full of cum. It doesn’t matter. He wants more. He wants all of his father's seed.

One spectral hand pushes his father's face closer. Urges him to bite harder. To make it a lasting mark. The feeling of his father tonging the flesh captured between his fangs makes him twitch and snarl in undiluted pleasure.

Another lick and his inner walls quiver, their grip on the cocks slipping away. He's getting wet again and Nero isn't sure how he knows, but he can feel the thick wetness that has nothing to do with cum stark to leak out.

Nero takes a breath, open mouthed, lips wet with drool and blood. On his periphery he can see Vergil's tail swishing contentedly and it sours his mood.

"Drink it!" he demands with a loud growl. His father is taking his time, milking the wound he made in his neck, letting his precious blood fill his mouth. The glutton. And another time he would let him. But right now he needs him to drink it. The desire for it is as strong as it is foreign, and Nero doesn’t even stop to think about it -he can be disgusted and ashamed later, after his father drinks his blood and the Qlipoth's gone and-

Father's waiting for something, and a moment later Nero realizes with clarity what it is. Because most of their fight too was about his father acknowledging him. Obviously, it was a mutual sentiment. It just happened that he hadn’t noticed.

He hadn’t even called his father’s name throughout this.

He swallows, and he feels the motion go down his throat, falling down until he feels the hot cum splashing his insides and gods it is too much and --Vergil is silent and Nero knows why now.

He softens his hold, no longer demanding but cradling his father's head. He can feel more than see the curiosity in the other devil, and the little hopeful thing that Nero himself shouldn't have omitted in the first place.

He smiles and caresses his father's face, from jaw to horn and back, palm spread. "Vergil," he calls and his father jerks in surprise, biting harder, dicks twitching, splashing more come inside.

Nero groans, delighted in how bloated and claimed he feels and --shit he's coming again. Through the trembles he berates his stupid lizard brain turned on by bites and their need.

He still repeats his father's name over and over, delighting in the full body shiver he elicits in his father, in how those big hands hold him closer --tighter to his behemoth form. He's held in place by those hands around his waist, the wings around his thighs, the cocks still pulsing inside him, his come, and his father's teeth fastened around his neck.

And yet Nero knows he can leave if he wants. He's not being caged. His father, Vergil, is clinging to him. As if Nero will leave, as if this was a mere fooling around.

It isn't. Vergil might have taken his arm and Yamato. Might have benefitted from the Qliphoth, might have done so many other terrible things –and yet Nero doesn't want to let go, doesn't want to leave him. He's his family, and more than just that. They'll have time to sort things out, but as long as he's alive, there's a chance.

"Vergil," he breathes, voice trembling, heart pounding wild in his ears. "Drink it. You can --I want you too."

A few things happen right then. Vergil laves the skin trapped between his fangs one more time and then Nero is gone. Like his power and soul leave his body and travel through Vergil. It’s a strange and frantic chase as he goes deeper and deeper into Vergil. Almost like he’s his blood.

Nero doesn’t know what he’s looking for until he finds it. It’s big and shiny and lizard demon brain urges him to take it, to break it and meld with it. It’s a need is imperative it hurts, and Nero does it. Surrounds it and breaks it, melds with it and becomes one with the same euphoria he had with the first orgasm and everything fades.

He's barely conscious when he his spectral hands push open his father's Jaw, the feeling of his blood flowing freely down his shoulder is all but a secondary concern. He doesn’t know when he's biting his father, his small teeth hard enough to break the armor in the tender joint between his neck and jaw.

He's lost in the sudden surge of power, raw and ozone sharp. It boils his blood, sends shivers right beneath his skin, and when the wave reaches his core it takes a vicious hold of it too. It shatters, and the blood seeps through the cracks, solidifying and smoothening the surface, making it new and stronger. The moment the last drop solidifies everything explodes behind his eyelids. A technicolor waves so vivid he can taste it, so strong he's swept away.

When he finally comes back to, he's still on top of his father in the middle of a crater. Both back in human form.

"What a curious form to make others submit," Vergil comments offhandedly, without any intention to move from where he is, sprawled on the floor between Nero's legs.

Once he would be angry at how his father looks nonplussed while Nero himself is gasping for air, still shivering. But he knows that's just a facade. There's something in him now, a bright thing binding him to Vergil -binding them both- and whatever it is lets him know pretty well, how the older man feels.

Euphoric. Tired. Awed.

"Didn't hear you complaining, Vergil." He smiles, and kisses his father slow and sweet. First on his forehead, then on his lips. father caresses his head with one gloved hand, a delicate but through touch before lightly massaging his scalp. Nero closes his eyes, pleased. There's a small quirk on his father's lips, but the sentiment of utter contentment and gratitude is blossoming right beneath his skin.

It might be wrong to have this type of thing with one's father, but he couldn't care less at the moment. Not when everything feels so _right_. Like it was always meant to be this way. Like they are a true family now.

What Nero can accept to be weird is the fact that he doesn't feel bloated anymore. A quick look down confirms it: his stomach is back to normal. Now that he thinks about it, even his thighs are dry too.

Definitely weird.

The only wet thing is his neck. The wound is still open. He presses his new hand on it, gauging the damage. Blood is still seeping out, but the wound is not as deep as it should be.

"Don't touch it," Vergil chastises, clicking his tongue. "It'll heal on his own"

Nero relents. "What was that?" he asks, genuinely curious.

Father doesn’t exactly roll his eyes, but is a near thing. 

"Nero—" Vergil begins and Nero can't hear whatever else he says when something big, heavy and scalding crashes over them and hauls Nero to it by the neck.

It takes a fraction to register the attacker's scent, the red wings, the unbearable heat and the growl. The next he has one spectral hand pressing on the Demon's wrist with enough force to slacken the hold.

"Oh hell no!" Nero shouts as he breaks free from Dante's hands, and wastes no time to roll away when he touches the ground.

Horny. whatever demonic instincts pick it up immediately. Dante is horny. Desperately so.

His dicks are still tucked in, thank god. But horny is horny, and Nero knows how a horny Dante smells. Not that they ever did something together –but Nero had known. That’s why the rejection stung more the only time he’d tried to come onto the older man two years prior.

He doesn’t seem to mind now, however. Doesn’t take a genius to know why.

"You horndog!" he accuses, one part mortified and three parts two years aged anger. "Don't think I won't beat you as well, old man" he challenges, but everyone is aware that's just bravado. Mostly. He's tired. The fight with his father, the sex and whatever the blood sharing thing was has him wrung out a bit. Or a lot.

Of course, Dante takes him on. Because when has he ever said no to a fight? Nero dodges, snatches Red Queen to parry Dante’s sword and sweeps between the devil’s legs to get out of the way from spectral swords. He doesn’t catch his breath before Dante is on him again.

The way they are fighting now –the way he knows Dante is just humoring by holding back- It's somehow reminiscent of another time. It clicks when he drop kicks Dante in the face and the devil hunter just goes with it hitting one of the pillars and using his sword as a step.

“Is this what you’re playing at?!” Nero snarls frustrated and confused, running towards him. “You’re going to get it, old man!”

Like expected, Dante raises to the sky, and Nero knows this dance. He’s faster now. Dante doesn’t get enough altitude before Nero is trapping him again with his legs. A spread eagle trap fixed around the trimmed waist and the momentum knocks them down.

There are no guns now, but dodging Dante’s spectral swords is the same as bullets. Nero even neutralizes them the same way he did before, ducking down, powering through the feedback of one blade, sneaking one leg and immobilizing his right arm, leaning in and—

Biting the edge of a sword is absolutely stupid, but his instincts were right again because Dante pretty much refrains from using the momentum and cleaving his head in half.

Bingo. He likes it. Likes that kind of dangerous foreplay.

He kicks Dante’s wrist, and the sword falls down. He’s being humored. Nero doesn’t care. He uses the imbalance to tip them over in a roll and push down hard once he’s back on top.

Whether the old hunter is surprised or not Nero doesn’t give a damn. They fall down, with Nero sitting snugly on his uncle’s waist. "Calling me deadweight. Protecting me from my father...” he berates waggling a finger stretching his legs on the ground at each side of Dante’s chest. “Me thinks you just wanted the attention."

Dante growls wildly, and Nero table hops away from the devil’s violent lunge.  Given the present situation he can’t help but chuckle almost mockingly and clap. 

"Displeased, aren't you? Horny and yearning and angry,” he comments almost offhandedly, but something ugly burns inside him. The little toxic mix of insecurity, past rejection and being lied to. “Like you hadn’t had _him_ first. Like you hadn't had _me_ first. But couldn't be arsed make a move, could you, old man?!" he practically screams the last part and Dante’s wings bat brutally in response.

Nero dodges the first, and takes the second energy blade with his new hand -already covered with scales- and bites it. The taste burns his tongue, and yet it's so heady and invigorating enough to trigger him back to devil form.

He's more aware of it this time. The way his perception changes, grows sharper -how he's now aware of the scents in the battlefield. Vergil's interest and slight arousal -a mere candle to Dante's hellfire. Speaking of Dante, his arousal is permeated with a thick cloying scent of neediness and anguish it makes Nero stop. Had he gotten it all wrong?

Back in this form he's bloated again. His stomach once again is big and round. Whatever demonic instinct he possesses has his walls and slit closed shut, keeping all of his father's cum swishing inside. The sloshing sound is obscene, and Dante imperceptivity moves this way and that when Nero adjust his stance to keep balance.

Nero stares in disbelief. “Are you for real?!”

Okay. So Dante is a pervert and it shouldn’t come as a surprise, but it does. This seems to be a day chock full of familial discoveries.

It's more instinct than any conscious thought --he just wants to test one hypothesis- but his body answers just the same. He feels his slit opening, just a little but it's enough for Vergil's cum to flow out and —Holy shit- Dante honest to goodness _whines_.

It's ridiculous to see his big bulky form sliding forward trying to get a taste. He's not graceful at all, and all it takes to stop it in one of his spectral hands on his uncle's face. Quite easy.

Suspiciously so.

"You want _him_ too, don't you?” he hazards a guess, and Dante’s breathy needy growl confirms it. That’s it. Tonight he’s going to get stupid drunk and wonder about the fucked up family dynamics of the Spardas. Not now though. Apparently, he’s going to keep doing sexual family counseling. What is his _life_ even?!

“You want him so much that you can't handle it, hm Dante? You hear his name and go crazy. You want to get close but all you do is cut him away with your sword," Nero comments, leaning a bit towards his uncle. One spectral hand keeping Dante in place while the other caresses him softly on the back. Dante is kneeling, and yet like this he still towers over Nero.

He could so easily break his hold --he barely has a hold on his uncle to be honest- but something tells him Dante wont. It sets his blood on fire, and unwittingly, his slit opens a bit more, drenching his thighs with his father's cum. Dante bites back another whine, but it's fooling no one. Not when his wings flap needy and hopeful.

"It's fine. You didn't know how to. That's why I'm here to teach ya," Nero soothes, and places a hand on the burning hole in the middle of his chest. It feels like sunlight on his skin, warm and welcoming -not at all the sizzling and burning of skin it should be given the heat haze emanating from his Uncle's whole form.

Nero is attacked by the sudden need to test out everything with Dante. He wants to know what will the older devil hunter let him do, just to get a taste. "On your back." he orders, pushing his hand.

It still takes him by surprise when his uncle complies without a smart jab, or a playful quip. Then again, there _is_ a time limit. Vergil's seed is running out, and it is now a conscious struggle to keep his slit close. It's too wet and he's aroused by Dante, by what he's about to do --and by Vergil's own interest in their display.

Nero swallows, but looks at the prone from of his devil uncle with determination. _Just watch, father_.

(There is a curious tug in whatever binds him and his father now. But he resolutely ignores it. Dante is the one that needs his attention at this moment, and he will give it to him. He's earned at least this much.)

Walking over Dante's new devil form shouldn't be as exhilarating as it is. Stepping on his cock sheath, carelessly grinding on it with the balls of his feet before walking all the way up to his shoulders shouldn't make him feel powerful -and yet it does. There's a trail of Vergil's come on Dante's chest too. Starting on the cock sheath, where it's still dripping down and ending on his clavicle, where Nero is, come pooling on his chest, lazily starting to heat and boil. It's a mark, a twin mark of Nero and his father. A claim of ownership, of trust and belonging --if Dante accepts it that it.

Nero is aware of the two pair of wings hovering closely, twitching and ready to action –to attack. It is a vulnerable position and no self-respecting devil, or devil hunter for that matter, would consciously leave himself open and vulnerable in such a manner on a battlefield and open to attack. But Nero knows nothing here will. He won't attack Dante, and he knows Vergil won't.

If Dante's reticence comes from another set of personal hang-ups, there might be a problem. Maybe he had read the cues wrong. Just because they were family it meant not the tastes were the same.

Nero likes whenever Kyrie stepped on him. It had felt grounding, like he knew where he belonged and without the shame. She wasn't stepping on him because he was beneath her, she did it because he was propping her up.

He understands Kyrie now, what she meant about control and love and trust. Nero never thought he'd ever be in her position -nor did he ever want to, too afraid of losing control and harming her or Nico.

But Dante, just like his father, can take the blows. Can protect them all if he loses control. And yet Dante stays still, ready to follow his instructions. Except for the twitching wings, and it is up to Nero to put him at ease.

"I'll be good if you behave," he purrs, putting the toes of one foot on his uncle's chin and tipping him to look at him straight in the eyes. "You promise to behave and I'll let you have a taste hm?" he goads, one hand taking a bit of the mess between his thighs and showing it to Dante. When his uncle's attention zeroes in it, he spreads his fingers wide with a smirk, and licks his hand clean.

His moan is not for show. Vergil's cum tastes delicious. He almost doesn’t want to share it anymore.

Dante's wings fall down on the floor with a heavy thud, and something deep in Nero's psyche crows in victory.

"Open up old man, no biting, and I'll let you lick me clean. How's the sound of that?" he instructs.

In lieu of answer Dante just leans back and opens his mouth.

Well, how can he make the old man wait after such a sweet invitation?  

In a fluid move, he sits on Dante’s face –which seems to have been made exclusively for that purpose, the second curved horns making a nice cushion for his knees-, thigh at each side, slit right on top of his mouth. Fuck, the sensation is really good. “You can put your hands on my legs,” he breathes the permission. “If it’s too much you can move me away, don’t want you cho – _Shit_!”

Dante’s tongue storms inside, opening his slit to the fullest and Nero _feels_ Vergil’s come rushing out like a downpour. The older hunter doesn’t seem to mind, happily gulping away, letting leftovers flow down his armored jaws.

Nero groans, gasping for air worried Dante might choke on so much cum but Dante’s hands press him closer to his face. His tongue is longer, wider too, and it’s wiggling like crazy. It only stops when Dante gulps Vergil’s cum.

Dante takes his tongue out, swallows, and breaths out in satisfaction. His tongue teases the ends of his slit, lapping at his entrance a little before pushing inside, squiggling around to get more cum, to travel deeper. It hits the sensitive sots inside him with skilled precision, and Nero’s thighs tremble violently, trapped as they are in Dante’s horns.  

It’s a good torture. A win-win for everyone. Dante is enthusiastically eating him out, practically guzzles Vergil’s cum and Nero is going on his merry way to another orgasm courtesy of that devilish tongue.

He arches, trying to get away when the tongue finally reaches deep enough to flick on that tender spot inside him. Instinctively, he pushes Dante’s face down, trying to get away to no avail. It’s almost like the old hunter was trying to find the spot because he forgets about drinking more cum and instead teases that spot viciously.  One big thumb pushes inexorably on his still distended stomach, and Nero yowls.  

He comes so hard a part of him is afraid he'll break Dante's head with how had he's pressing his thighs. Luckily, the armor is sturdy enough.

His legs are tensed, cramped and trembling. His throat is burning from screaming. He is still spasms all around Dante’s tongue, clenching hard and the muscle doesn’t budge at all. He tries to move his hips away, but Dante's hold is a vice, and he tongue doesn't stop slithering and slurping his quivering folds. A demon on a mission to drink him dry.

It's white hot pleasure, and crosses the line of hurting so good. He's sensitive and yet his body just keeps getting wet, enticing his uncle's tongue. But it's too much.

He arches with a chocked groan, back taut, wings spread when Dante's tongue reaches deep within him again, through the inner barrier or whatever and teases those sensitive walls ruthlessly. He breathes through his mouth, drooling a bit and his traitorous stupid lizard brain for a body keeps pushing his hips on his uncles' mouth.

He wants to be like this forever.

He _can't_ be like this forever. 

His legs are useless lead but he still has his hands. "Hey!" he snarls, hitting one of Dante's horns. "Enough. Old man let me go!"

Dante of course doesn't. When has he ever done something he wants anyway? It's refreshing to see the smugness back after such needy display, but Nero feels no relief. It's quite the opposite, really.

He bows forward with a keening gasp that will mortify him later. Everything is trembling. Every move and swipe of Dante's tongue is tortuous. His juices are making a mess on Dante's jaws, making a slippery trap he can't evade.

He tries to find anything because any moment now he'll say fuck it and pull Dante by the horns and bury that smug bastard deeper into his folds and—

Red queen is too far, but Dante's new sword is a quick snatch away. About time he reminded the old man how their first encounter ended.

He snatches Dante's sword with a needy sound he'll deny forever, and slams it down between the half-devil's legs with enough force to bury a third of it in the ground. The move is enough to bring back the danger alertness, and Dante’s tongue slips out of him followed by a rush of his wetness that's horridly obscene.

He snarls in anger and mortification. "Try me again," he warns with a growl. Eyes boring into his uncle's luminescent ones. The cheeky old man doesn't seem chastised at all and Nero wonders if maybe he shouldn't have been such a softie to not slam the sword through his dick sheath.

Whatever is on his face seems to do the trick because slowly, Dante loosens the grip on his thighs. He never quite frees them, but Nero can stand up and leave if he wants to.

Which he will do, except Dante is now nuzzling his thigh with a murmur resembling a purr and a traitorous little voice in Nero's head whispers _Bite?_

He hears Vergil stand up in alert, but everything else is drowned by a deep rumble, all melted stone and crackling fire that whispers _Yes._

It freezes him on the spot, despite the heat in that word melting his mind, his defenses and lighting the knot of wet heat inside from slow burn to high flame.

He swallows, and asks with a shy voice he'll later be utterly shamed of "You... want _me_ too?"

He tries to stomp on his hopes as much as he can. He's no longer the lost nineteen-year-old punk with no family, who had just lost a brother and possibly a sister. That was a long time ago, and even with personal hang-ups Dante hadn't made a move. Had rejected him even! He had to make things clear now and—

“Yes” the voice rumbles again, stronger even, and it melts his resistance, the tension on his legs and he more or less slumps back on Dante’s face like dough, the heat welcoming and grounding. “Nero mine. Share? Please?”

"Yes," someone answers for him, and Nero looks sharply at Vergil, now just a few steps away. Face as unreadable as the knot of _things_ pushing through their bond.

"You sure?" he manages to ask. His mind reeling from the revelation and the situation in general. Dante wants him. Why had he rejected him then? And his brother –his father- was giving permission to… what exactly does a biting mean anyway? Is there even a difference between biting his neck and biting his inner thigh?

"You want to." is the diplomatic non answer.

Nero huffs annoyed, crossing his arms. "But do _you_?" he's not dumb. Whatever the bond mutual bite is... it's akin to a serious relationship demonicwise. And he knows his notes on how to tango in polyships, and permissions is one of them.

Vergil gives him a surprising warm longing look, lips quirking slightly. "Yes."

There's more in that word, and Nero's pretty sure Vergil's desires also encompass his brother. This family, honestly.

"Well then, you can bite Dante. But only if you promise to never attempt and kill your brother." He reasons. Dante puffs petulantly, and yeah, he’s no longer teasing him with his tongue but that hot breath still gets him good. Good thing is, Nero can focus on correcting childlike behavior with ease, no matter the situation.

“No seriously,” he insists, one hand swatting Dante’s armored forehead. “Next time go and try to do what I did-” Next to him Vergil scoffs, but Nero pays him no mind. “–Or just kiss him. See where it goes. I know you can survive being pierced through by a sword.”

Vergil frowns. “Did he tell you that?”

Nero shakes his head. “Ran him through with Rebellion when we first met.”

“Pinned me to a statue of our father with it,” Dante elaborates, demonic power still distorting his voice to something scalding, meltingly sensual, and maybe even proud. At least he’s more articulate this time.

Nero is very fond of that memory as well. Even if he knows Dante was holding back –and exactly what their first interaction meant in sexual context.

Vergil snorts faintly, and their bond flares in genuine amusement. “You are my son indeed.”  

Dante nips his thigh demanding attention and Nero jerks. “Ok, -ow Dante! Promise me that, and you’ll get my blood and bite. No more killing family in this house!” 

The hunter pauses, and Nero can’t read that armored face at all. Something is going on though, because even the link tying him to Vergil is quiet, waiting in a mix of expectation and awe.

He’s in the middle of reviewing everything he’s said recently, trying to find what he could have done when Dante nods nuzzling his thigh harder. The relief that washes though him isn’t entirely his own.  

The bite hurts more than Vergil’s did, enough to want to take his leg away from it. Nero gasps, fingers clenching around Dante’s horns, nails piercing through. Dante drinks, but there’s no rush of power. Nothing like when Vergil did it.

Dante opens his mouth, licks the light blue blood seeping from Nero’s wound and with a sharp move he’s back mauling his thigh. The fangs pierce deeper, and when Dante drinks his blood again something breaks.

The effervescent feeling returns. He’s floating and not, being pushed down inside Dante, suffocating in the heat, and yearning. Nero knows what to do though, and actively looks for the glowing thing. It’s red this time –what a surprise- and wastes no time on surrounding it, breaking its whole, enough to make himself a space between the cracks.

Melding with them feels like home as well. Even more so. Like he’s finally complete. Like there were parts of him that never truly belonged with him but with Dante and Vergil, and he finally gave them back, tying him where he belonged.

When he finally opens his eyes, he’s met with Vergil. Vergil who isn’t looking at him but somewhere between his spread legs. Huh? Weird. Wasn’t he sitting on Dante’s face? 

It takes a moment to notice the huge arms around his middle, keeping him in place. From there is easy to determine the legs, the knees, the heat behind him. The hot breath on the crown of his head.

So biting means blacking out from euphoria. Nero files it in his head for further study sometime in the future.

Dante has him sitting on his lap, spread out for the world to see. Or more truthfully, for Vergil's inspection. Dante's double dicks burning in his back, their tips reaching the beginning of his wings, leaving scalding drooling marks all over the sensitive scales.

Nero thinks he should be ashamed of it all. Of this position. Of being manhandled like that. Of Vergil crouching between his legs, face set in stern concentration studying Dante's bitemark on his right thigh still oozing bright blue blood, and paying no attention whatsoever to his drooling opened folds. They feel exposed, obscenely open, like Vergil could fist him and Nero wouldn't feel any discomfort.

Instead he's anxious for Vergil's verdict. He wants, no, _needs_ to know what his father, (his mate, the demonic lizard brain provides) thinks of the bite. Something that Dante echoes, if the sizzling energy feedback is anything to go by.

“It’s deep enough,” Vergil finally says, looking up to his brother and Nero is inundated with the older twin’s satisfaction and pride. “You pierced the gland, it’ll take” 

Nero blinks confused. What gland? But Dante seems pleased with the result, purring with unmistakable joy on his shoulder, a hand lifting his leg to appreciate the bite, rising him up a little. Nero takes the chance to lift his hips further and free Dante’s cocks from being trapped between them.

From his vantage point, Dante’s dicks are different than Vergil’s. Girth, length and number seem to be the same, but that’s where it all ends. These have a blunt, flared, almost flat head for starters, with a small protrude towards the tip. But Nero knows that’s not enough. It’ll take a bigger effort to force them inside no matter how opened up he feels. The dicks are slightly curved too, and Nero can appreciate the ridges flaring in the underside and lazily swirling around the girth. They also have protective scales at each side, texturizing it even more. He’s already leaking, giving the cocks a shiny glossy look –and yeah, Nero wants to know how will that feel inside him.

But gravity is not going to be enough. He’ll need to be forced down –at least this first time.

Almost as if reading his thoughts, Dante lifts him up like nothing, his big hands covering his whole torso. Nero yelps, trying to find purchase in those hands, his spectral wings clinging to Dante’s back for dear life.

“You going to bring me down on your cocks, old man?” he teases, but it’s more of a plea. Dante must agree, because that’s the only way he’s going to get them inside in one go this afternoon.

Dante rumbles in approval and Nero smiles, relaxing his slit and folds even more as the old devil hunter pushes him down.

Vergil tuts and Dante stops mid-drop.

“Hey!” Nero complains. Dante’s dicks are so near his slit he can feel the heat tease his inner folds. He was _this_ close to get them in, why is he cockblocking him right now? He agreed to the bite, it’s too late for regrets.

Almost as if reading his mind, Vergil wryly raises an eyebrow at him. Nero doesn’t exactly pout, but is a near thing.

“You two are an eager mess,” Vergil concludes exasperated. “You are not aiming well Dante.” He chastises his twin and Nero winces. Yeah, a hit with that force was going to hurt if they did not get inside in one go.  

“And Nero,” father continues, amused, palms on his thighs, pushing them more apart. “spread your legs wider.”

Somewhere in the back of his mind, Nero’s utterly mortified at the fact that his father is spreading his legs wider (Asked him to!) so that he could take his Uncle’s cocks. Luckily, demon lizard brain is in control, because the moment he spreads them full Vergil nods to Dante who pushes him down, hard.

The scream punched out of him must have been heard throughout the world. He doesn’t even realize his spectral wings pierced through Dante’s back until he smells his uncle’s blood.  

It hurts, but there’s no blood. Only unbearable heat, and holy shit there’s far more pressure than with Vergil’s

And talking about Vergil, he’s leaning forward, hand touching the bulge on his middle, stroking lightly down until he reaches the spot where he and Dante join. Nero shakes his head deliriously, clenching around the cocks inside him.

Vergil continues teasing with his thumb the front end of his slit, wet with both his lubricant and Dante’s precum. Oh god he’s so wet and slippery, Dante hasn’t even started but he already feels juices coating every inch inside, thick and viscous. The sounds it’ll make when Dante lifts him up—

Vergil presses his thumb against the front end of his slit and Nero comes with a garbled gasp. His entire body shakes, his spectral wings twitch, and his walls spasm violently around the cocks, trapped inside. He barely hears Dante’s satisfied and fond purr, or how he nuzzles his hair, or the tongue that slithers out to caress his cheek.

He’s faintly aware of his father’s fond hum, of him telling Dante that he’s good to go.

Nero hisses when Dante raises him up again and pushes him down his cocks. The friction, the obscene squelching sounds, the teasing of those scales inside him… He could sit back and enjoy the ride. There’s no way he could achieve this pleasure by his lonesome. Not with how different Dante’s cocks are compared to Vergil.

He gasps, hands gripping Dante’s body clenching down, trying to stop –or maybe accelerate the older hunter’s invasion and conquering of his body. They are slow but constant, and fuck, Maybe Nero should just let himself be manhandled like this.

But he—

He must regain control.

The next time Dante pushes him down, Nero is braced for the onslaught of pleasure. He leans back, and with a swift movement takes hold of Dante’s neck. His own demon hands can’t do it, but his wings are wide enough, flexible enough to take hold of it.

Dante stops, but Nero can feel the dicks inside him twitch with interest. _Good._

“If you don’t want them say the word,” he cautions, looking at the older devil hunter. “If you do, then fuck me harder” he demands reaffirming his hold on Dante’s neck, his spectral claws instinctively knowing where to pressure on the exposed throat to make him lightheaded. “You want to get deeper? You’ll have to try harder”

Dante hesitates, and Nero breaks his hold.

“He can take them, Dante.” Vergil comments, arms crossed. “Your foolish hesitance is starting to become patronizing”

Nero blinks dumbfounded. Dante was hesitating? He could do _more?_ He sits up, biting his lip as the cocks slide deeper inside, and looks at the devil hunter. The armored face can’t emote a thing, but Nero has gotten better at reading demon energy, and the chastised hum is unmistakable. “Don’t you want me to take them whole inside and keep your come?” he encourages, palming the bulge invitingly.

Dante wails long and defeated, as if something broke inside him, and rises Nero up, until only the flat tips are inside and slams him down hard enough that the dicks reach a tender point inside.

Nero sees stars. He barely has time to recover when Dante is doing it again, and again, and again. None of them are hard enough to reach the spot again, and Nero complains, or tries to through his shaking voice. Almost demands the pleasure Dante can give him.

He feels Precome and lubricant dribble out every time Dante raises him up. It makes the next thrust slide deeper, soother. The scales tease him, press against all kinds of sensitive spots but not the one he needs. He clenches around them, Urging them to go deeper. One spectra hand pushes dante’s face Next to his, to make sure Dante _understands_.

He needs them to go deeper. He can do it. When they reach again is going to be fantastic.

“Spitfire,” Dante bellows increasing the force of his thrusts, and the voice strikes right Nero to his soul, reverberates beneath his skin. It’s undiluted awe and pride. Enough to make him _drunk_. “You’re going to be the death of me”

Nero manages to laugh between his groans. He’s so –they are _so close._ “No longer a kid huh, old man?”

“You take so well.” The devil agrees, breath hot on his nape. “Stupid —afraid you couldn’t”

Nero screams when the cocks find that spot again. They are thrusting deeper now, enough to reach it over and over. “You _are_ stupid,” he finally manages, drool going down his face. “Of course I could.”

“Yes,” Dante surrenders, voice almost a whine and butter soft. Tongue tugging his hair a bit. “You’re perfect. Perfect mate. Ours,” he continues repeating the word over and over again while nosing his hair, and licking his horns.  

Nero bites his lips drawing blood. Everything trembles, his vision a crisscross of technicolor and white. He’s near, he can feel the build up rising in his gut, in his core. How each time the  cocks reach inside –how each time that one spot is abused, the damn breaks a bit more.

Dantre is groaning, making inhuman sounds of encouragement, and Nero – it would be so easy to give in now, to jump into another soul breaking orgasms but—

He needs—

“Dante,” his breathes, and he can’t recognize his voice. It’s too inhuman to belong to him. “You-” He gasps again, closing his eyes shut at the sensation of those dicks “-Are _mine_ too. Right?”

Dante doesn’t answer. Or if he does, it’s pure inhuman sounds. They seem to soothe him more than Dante’s face nuzzling his hair and Nero decides that’s enough. When Dante pushes him down again, Nero explodes, body clenching in one tight coil and arching back like a bow.

He has enough mind to tug Dante closer. The position might be a bit awkward, but his teeth still find the tender place right beneath the old hunter’s jaw and bites hard. He’s more used to the process now, the scalding surge of power frying his insides, imprisoning his core until it fragments enough to seep in and become a myriad of ties. It’s maddening, addicting,

When he comes back to, Dante is all draped around him. Human arms wrapped around his middle and Nero can feel a soft kiss on the crown of his head. His mind is still cotton stuffed, but his face is wet with Dante’s blood.

It’s a warm feeling. Strangely domestic and safe. Even Vergil looks a bit soft. If that's how it is going to be, Nero can get accustomed to transforming back to human.

Of course, because this is _Dante_ , the quiet doesn’t last. “Blew your mind huh, Kid?”

“Shut up and just kiss me, old man,” Nero complains, red faced hitting one arm. 

Dante does, deep and slow, one hand pressing against his flat stomach. Nero shivers into the old man's lips before pushing him away.

"Ew," he complains, cleaning his lips with the back of his hand. "Your old man breath sucks."

"You didn't seem to mind earlier," the old man teases, breathing right on his nose.

Nero scrunches his nose in acute disgust, mildly ashamed at his terrible taste. "Your demon form was vastly different," he reasons.

"Agreed." Echoes Vergil and Nero smirks, eminently smug.

The ground shakes and crumbles at the edges. Like a warning bell Nero remembers suddenly why exactly they were racing against time.

The Qliphoth.

“The underworld is taking over,” he reminds his family terribly ashamed and guilty. He held everyone up, enjoying this when…

“We still have time, Kid,” Dante reassures, pushing him once again against his back. Nero would die before admitting how the physicality soothes his nerves and guilt.

“We need to do something before it’s too late,” Nero states the obvious, mostly just to regain a sense of control and get his mindset back to the mission. Dante’s hands let him go and he goes back on his feet, extending one hand to hoist the old man up.

“Indeed,” Vergil says coolly and Dante looks at him astonished. “We must close the portal or it'll keep interfering with our businesses.”

Dante freezes, looking at his brother like he’s seen a ghost. Nero doesn’t have a lot of context to work it through, but if the face splitting grin the older devil hunter gives his brother, then it must be something good.

“I must say I’m surprised brother dearest! You? Advocating to close a portal?”

Vergil does rolls his eyes this time. “If the roots spread it will cause a greater interference, Dante.”

Dante’s face grows serious, and a feeling of _gotcha_ pushes through their bond. Nero is about to ask when the old devil hunter pats his shoulder and walks towards Vergil. “Down you go kid. Say hi to the girls, and tell Lady I’ll keep her Kalina Ann for a longer loan.”

Nero blinks, and like that anger flares back –along with a sharp spike of fear. Dante can’t be serious. “Hey! Wait!” he calls following the two men as they go to the Qliphoth’s edge. “Don't think I'm going to let you go by yourselves!”

Vergil stops, looks at him, then at his brother and says “I am more than capable of finishing it myself, Dante.”

Dante shrugs and says as a matter of fact. “Well someone is going to have to keep an eye on you. And it's not going to be the kid.”

Nero bristles. “The hell you mean it's not going to be me?! You’re the one that has an abandoned demon hunting business here!”

Dante clicks his tongue, finally turning around and Nero freezes at the gratitude reflected in those gray eyes. “It's because you are here we can go.”

Nero shakes his head stalking after them "Oh no you two are crazy if you think--!"

He doesn’t see the hit coming. A punch with enough force to send him a few meters away but not enough to break his nose. He’s barely on his knees when he’s bombarded by the Twin's desire to protect and keep him safe. It hits him harder than their fists. and entirely the culprit of keeping him on the ground.

“We are not going to be stuck in hell kid,” Dante reassures him, and it mellows his fear a spot.

Vergil looks back at him, face a mask on equanimity, but the echoes of wanting to Protect Nero and keep him safe remain in their bond. “Yamato can open a portal, we will return.”

“We just have to take care of some root businesses.”

Nero swallows. It hurts the idea that he can’t come, but they will come back and that… that must account for something. “When will you come back?” he asks, stubborn in the need of a fixed date.

Dante hums, one hand scratching his chin and answers a bit dubiously. “in about a year...?”

Nero huffs angrily. That’s in no way a reasonable amount. “A year?! You two together can clean that thing in a day.” He argues. “Six months, Old man.”

It’s not everyday one can see a puzzled Dante, but Nero enjoys the rare view all the same. “You can't really put a time stamp on that!”

He bares his teeth "Six months before I start experimenting with Kyrie and Nico like that" he challenges, his spectral wings shimmering into existence leaving no doubt as to what he's referring to.

Vergil's face grows stormy and Nero feels a sharp whip of displeasure when his father says "You wouldn't dare."

Dante throws a quick look between them and raises his hands a little. "How about nine months, Kid?"

Nero won't stand for it. He’s not stupid. He can read between the lines. ‘Root problems’ are more familial than Qliphoth related. He's aware they both need time alone to go through their issues and who knows how many years of separation, but they are leaving _him_ behind. Nero doesn't want that ever again. Especially with family. "Three months." he bids.

Dante's face falls. "That's not how it works! You lowered it!"

He glares, without an inch of shame. "Want me to lower it even more?"

Dante makes a face like he's about to argue when Vergil raises one hand, and his uncle calms down. His father's face barely changes, but the glee Nero feels is unmistakable. Dante doesn't seem to react to it, and Nero realizes gleefully that he doesn’t _know_. Whatever channel or bond they did, doesn’t go two ways through him. Nero bites his lip trying hard not to laugh, and a wave of fond exasperation washes through him.

"Three months it is," Vergil confirms, voice steady and wearing the greatest poker face known to man -except for Nero. "Do not share this bond with others." he demands in turn, and Nero almost thinks it sounds like a plea.

"Of course," he agrees, and suddenly there's a relief flowing through the bond and he's surprised to find most of it is his own.

Dante huffs, posture relaxed and blows him a kiss and starks walking to the edge. "You and Lady are not allowed to be in the same room ever again." he declares. Once at the edge he turns around, gives him a salute, followed by a wink and shouts "I'll dick those bad habits out of you when we get back!"

His uncle avoids his father's spectral sword by tipping over the edge.

"Crass as always," Vergil concludes with genuine distaste.

"Take care of each other in hell, alright?" he demands, but they both know it's more of a plea born out of concern and the warm syrupy thing tying them all together now. He can feel Vergil's faint surprise and the little hesitance of not wanting to go, the little desire to stay. That's what makes it easier to confess to his father -to the both of them, even if Dante is currently falling down. "I'll be waiting for you."

"We will return and find you," His father promises solemnly taking out V's book and throws it to him with a fond look. "Until then, take care of this."

"Sure," Nero says catching it with ease, and father doesn't glance back when jumping down the edge.

Three months, he thinks tightening the hold on V's book. He can wait three months just fine. It's not as if he's being left behind. He's what joins them all together now, and -he touches his chest, feeling the buzzing connection between them- no one will ever be left behind.

Not if he can help it.

Nero smiles. Yeah. He can wait three months just fine.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Sparda said horny rights, and I heed his words. 
> 
> For the last spardaweek (also known as spardacest). There's so much filth in this that I had to put this on anon. And I didn't get to do a Bingo. Lmao.  
> Also, this is dedicated to several Danero twitter accounts. Because all of you are awesome, an inspiration and never fail to bring a smile to this lurker. But since I don't know if this is up your alley or if something here is a hard no for you, I'd rather not tag anyone.
> 
> Onto some fun notes:  
> Kyrie, Nero and Nico are in a poly relationship best described as: "Here's my girlfriend Kyrie, and her girlfriend, Nico" The polyship rules were more or less established that Nero has free range if he wants to be with dudes, but with ladies he has to contact Kyrie or Nico (to know who calls dibs first). Kyrie practically made the rules that way because everyone knew Nero's thirstiness for Dante, and so he would have absolutely no excuse if one night he decided to just snack on veteran devil hunter meat.


End file.
